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About Me

is an unapologetic, bleeding-heart liberal who writes about everything from politics to private parts. A TV-writer in a former life, her credits include "Big Spender" for Animal Planet,and "A Child Too Many," "Cradle of Conspiracy" & "Deceived By Trust," for Lifetime

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

This morning I awoke a little earlier than normal and staggered, still half-asleep, into the bathroom planning a quick relief and then 30 more minutes of blessed slumber. Ah yes, another plan for God to laugh at….

Incoming! Mason comes bounding into the bathroom to deposit a very-much-still-alive mouse on the floor, which then proceeds to scurry between my feet. FUUUUUUUUUUCK!

Can you say “drip dry?” Oh, hell yeah… I’m awake now!

GET IT! GET IT! GET IT! Wherein Mason dives behind the toilet, snatches said mouse and races from the room with me in hot pursuit…

“Pants on the ground… lookin’ like a fool with your pants on the ground.”

… into the living room where the terrified mouse sits frozen in the middle of the floor, Mason calmly at his side. Well, let me correct that. A little dark blob sits frozen in the middle of the floor. I do not have my contacts in. I cannot see shit.

Then it moves -- darts, actually -- and Mason pounces, gently corralling it and cuddling it to his chest. Mason, I realize, does not regard the mouse as food. Unlike some of my other cats who’d been strays and had to fend for themselves in the surrounding farmland, Mason’s only view of the world has been through my office window. Mr. Useless-As-Tits-On-A-Bull was adopted from the shelter to be Dixie’s pet. And now, it would seem, he’d found a pet of his own. Swell…

Truth be told, since becoming a country girl I don’t like killing anything. Unlike my city life where the appearance of a spider would initiate the spraying of a full can of Raid (because if it wasn’t going to die from the poison, it was damn well going to drown), now I have a plastic container and a piece of cardboard precisely for the purpose of dropping it over an intruder, slipping the cardboard gently underneath and depositing it outside.

So this was my plan with the mouse and Ms. Magoo here stumbled her way into the kitchen to retrieve the passport-to-freedom container. With Mason momentarily distracted, the mouse took the opportunity to make its move. It didn’t get far before Mason snatched it up and ran off toward…

NO! NOT THE BEDROOM!!

By this time Dixie is peering over the covers, her sleep also disturbed, but clearly above joining in the fray.

The mouse has found cover behind the TV stand and is running back and forth providing endless fun for Mason. LEAVE IT! LEAVE IT! LEAVE IT!

This morning I awoke a little earlier than normal and staggered, still half-asleep, into the bathroom planning a quick relief and then 30 more minutes of blessed slumber. Ah yes, another plan for God to laugh at….

Incoming! Mason comes bounding into the bathroom to deposit a very-much-still-alive mouse on the floor, which then proceeds to scurry between my feet. FUUUUUUUUUUCK!

Can you say “drip dry?” Oh, hell yeah… I’m awake now!

GET IT! GET IT! GET IT! Wherein Mason dives behind the toilet, snatches said mouse and races from the room with me in hot pursuit…

“Pants on the ground… lookin’ like a fool with your pants on the ground.”

… into the living room where the terrified mouse sits frozen in the middle of the floor, Mason calmly at his side. Well, let me correct that. A little dark blob sits frozen in the middle of the floor. I do not have my contacts in. I cannot see shit.

Then it moves -- darts, actually -- and Mason pounces, gently corralling it and cuddling it to his chest. Mason, I realize, does not regard the mouse as food. Unlike some of my other cats who’d been strays and had to fend for themselves in the surrounding farmland, Mason’s only view of the world has been through my office window. Mr. Useless-As-Tits-On-A-Bull was adopted from the shelter to be Dixie’s pet. And now, it would seem, he’d found a pet of his own. Swell…

Truth be told, since becoming a country girl I don’t like killing anything. Unlike my city life where the appearance of a spider would initiate the spraying of a full can of Raid (because if it wasn’t going to die from the poison, it was damn well going to drown), now I have a plastic container and a piece of cardboard precisely for the purpose of dropping it over an intruder, slipping the cardboard gently underneath and depositing it outside.

So this was my plan with the mouse and Ms. Magoo here stumbled her way into the kitchen to retrieve the passport-to-freedom container. With Mason momentarily distracted, the mouse took the opportunity to make its move. It didn’t get far before Mason snatched it up and ran off toward…

NO! NOT THE BEDROOM!!

By this time Dixie is peering over the covers, her sleep also disturbed, but clearly above joining in the fray.

The mouse has found cover behind the TV stand and is running back and forth providing endless fun for Mason. LEAVE IT! LEAVE IT! LEAVE IT!